the kitchen. Warm
scents in the swirling
drinking helps meld,
sorrows felled by
us held in shared
waiting, aired prob-
lems, snared by these
a “please.” Manners;
only dinners can
make persons from
killers. Come, eat
with some nations.
(Poefusion and The Miss Rumphius Effect )
The laws of nature are a description of how you act, not a prescription, not a power or force that determines your acts. [So] it is impossible for you to ever conflict with natural law...just where do you leave off and the rest of the universe begin?
-Raymond M. Smullyan
The Tao Is Silent
High and straight she shines
deep and centered core
but not dense.
She radiates in all directions
pulsing and blending with the wavering sky.
One, two, three, four o’clock falling
five o’clock pausing.
The sun meets the earth;
she gently pets steady and solid ground.
Bright and powerful rays shoot for the sky before
(DENVER ART MUSEUM IN JANUARY TWILIGHT)
dogs wilting with mange
days heavy with sky
the deathly cheeks of a stranger
far off summer thunder
groans from a sleeping lover
the low hum of pub chatter
hotel smoking rooms
cold hamburger, burned last night
the very last sip of muddy tea
washing all those dishes
the last four hours of a sinus headache
Grey can steal your breath like a cat
One of my less edited poems, but I am trying to post more. I hate that old wives tale about cats stealing your breath at night, but I like to use it in poetry. It is like telling kids the Boogieman will come if they don't go to sleep. In this poem, I was trying to say that grey is on the scale between black and white, both and neither.
and a mask
eyes to collarbone
He calls it
blurple, a mix of
When he is topless,
he still wears
a white t-shirt with
blushing at their own
A white gold ring shines,
against browned finger.
I touch his
hand to see if he
can still feel.
White cigarettes burn
to grey ash.
He turns to brown dust.
Flake and peel,
layer and layer,
dust to dust
too soon for my taste.
(ReadWritePoem Prompt #35)
...living well is an art which can be developed.
Of course, you will need the basic talents to biuld upon:
They are a love of life
and ability to take great pleasure from small offerings,
an assurance the the world owes you nothing
and that every gift is exactly that, a gift.
That people different from you...can be founts of fun...
Woudn't Take Nothing For My Journey Now
The lines were broken up by me. This baby is long (each line could be a meditation in itself), but it has to be read together.
I have read so many lovely things this week, but it was not hard to choose. The winner left me stunned.
What good is it to win anything unless you get a trophy, right? So is born: The Proud Giraffe Award. Majestic as he is, he wears a silly smile, because Hey, it's a party!
I am not so wrapped up in my own dreams of grandour that I cannot see that anyone who gets The Proud Giraffe will care much, but it is fun for me, and it keeps me looking harder all week long, judging and reading and rereading to be sure to pick the right one.
The winner does not have to have been posted this week, only found by me.
So without further ado,
The First Weekly Proud Giraffe Award goes to...
... "Mark" by Tall Girl + Nexus IX and Nexus X by Marja-Leena Rathje
A haunting mix of photos and words.